“What are all those things for?” Jules asked, pointing out several of the modifications on the sleek, black train.

“Not just any train.” Doc paused before spilling the entire news. “It’s a time machine.”

“Oh, Emmett,” Clara whispered. “How?” She seemed stunned.

Doc crossed the room and pointed to the device rigged up at the front, before the smokestacks. “I finally managed to construct a steam powered flux capacitor. It took nearly three years to make that. Then, I had to fix the train.”

“I remember now, you bought an old train from the railroad company,” Clara said, half to herself. “But you never said why. I had forgotten about it.”

Doc nodded. “Yes, I had to pull it apart, piece it back together...it was not easy. But it is finally done, and ready for use.”

“Wow,” Verne said, walking slowly around the train. “You mean we can really travel through time in this?”

“But I’m curious, Father,” Jules said to Doc. “How were you able to harness steam power for this, when in the vehicle before you had to use... what was it?”

“Nuclear power,” he answered. “Well, it wasn’t easy. But to be perfectly honest, there is still one last thing left that the train must have.”

“What is that?” Clara asked, her shock wearing off.

“It must be hover converted. Which means that we will first be travelling over one hundred years in the future.”

“Neat!” Verne cried. A frown crossed his face. “What’s ‘hover converted’?”

“It will allow the train to fly,” Doc explained.

“Why does it need that?” Clara wondered. “And won’t it be expensive?”

“It will be much easier to get around once it is hover converted,” Doc said. “As for the cost, there is an antique shop in the future Hill Valley. I thought we might bring a some things with us to sell. I’m sure we could make enough , what with the inflation and rarity of certain items by 2015.”

“We will be going to the Twenty-First Century?” Jules asked, sounding awed.

Doc nodded. “Yes.” He paused to check the time on a couple of the clocks hanging around the interior of the barn. “I want everyone to be dressed in their finest clothes. That way we can explain to the people in the future that our clothes are our costumes for Halloween. I have already decided that we should be going back on October 31st. It will be the only way to explain how we are dressed.”

In the next half hour, there was a mad scramble as everyone tried to get ready to leave at once. Dinner was forgotten. Doc managed to collect some clothes, lamps, and other odds and ends for the antique shop and place them inside the train. Finally, everyone was ready to go.

Doc opened the “gull wing” door on the train and gave his family a quick tour of everything. The old typewriter keyboards he had rigged up to program the destination time. The soft cushioned bench at the back of the cab with seat belts. Doc had to custom make those, since not only were their no automobiles out yet, seat belts didn’t appear until the 1930’s.

“Is everyone ready to go?” he asked, reaching for the lever that would close the door. “Are you all buckled in.”

Clara checked the buckles on both Jules and Verne, then put her own on. “What are these for?”

“Safety.”

“Then why aren’t you wearing one?” Jules asked.

Doc shut the door, then slid the window open, sticking his head outside to check how much space they had to go before being outside. “I have to move around, adjust the controls. Don’t worry,” he added, ducking back inside. “I’ll be fine.”

He took a couple minutes to flip a few switches, check a some displays, and load up the boiler with plenty of his special Presto logs. Then Doc carefully started the train, easing it forward on the temporary track he had laid out to connect to the main line. He waited until they were on the regular track line before speeding up. When they had purchased the house, Doc had made sure that a train line was close by. A train converted into a time machine had been on his mind even then.

Speeding up to eighty-eight miles per hour took longer in a train then in a DeLorean sports car, but soon that special number was reached. Doc had a few beats of nervousness when the train hung at eighty-eight without anything happening. Then time travel took over and they were suddenly in the future.

“What happened?” Clara whispered, trying to see outside as the train slowed. It was dark out now, right before dawn.

Doc turned away from the controls briefly. “We’re in the future!” he said brightly. “Hill Valley on October 31st, 2015 at exactly...” He checked the time display. “7:01 A.M. I believe that it’s a Saturday.”

“I never knew that the future would be so dark,” Jules said, looking through the windows.

Doc slowed the train down. “The sun hasn’t come up yet. The traffic is now in the air.” He pointed to the skylight, where the skyway lights were quite visible   “Also,” Doc continued, “trains like this are considered obsolete by now. In fact, I’m surprised that the track has not been dismantled.”

“Where is this place you need to go to get the adjustments on the train?” Clara wanted to know. “Is it nearby?”

Doc hesitated. “I believe so, but I can’t be sure. If I remember correctly, it’s near Eastwood Ravine. The train tracks ran through the back.”

His guess proved correct. A few minutes later they arrived at Wilson Hover Conversions. A neon sign outside read “Hover Conversions While U Wait.” Dawn was just starting to break as Doc stopped the train and opened the door. His family exited the cab, all looking completely out of place in their clothing. But if anyone asked, they did have the good excuse of it being Halloween.

A man hurried outside to greet them. “May I help you?” he asked, staring at first the train -- an odd looking sight any time -- and then at the Browns.

Doc stepped forward. “Yes.” He pointed to the time machine. “I would like to get that hover converted today.”

The man looked at it uncertainly. “That steam train? Where on earth did you get one? I thought they were all in museums.”

“He bought one,” Verne spoke up. “From the railroad company.”

Doc quickly shook his head to hush him, but the man had already heard that.

“The railroad company? But they went out of business years ago!” He gave Doc a strange look. “And what are all those funny looking things on it?”

“If you must know,” Doc began, making up a little story, “I inherited a steam train engine from a recently deceased relative and all those ‘funny looking things’ are improvements on it. I’m a scientist, an inventor.”

“I see.” The man studied the train, then gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m sure we can convert this. But it’s gonna cost more then the standard car.”

“How much, exactly?”

The man pulled out a small computer from his pocket, punching in a few numbers. “Let’s see, if it’s $39,999.95 for a typical conversion on an automobile....” he muttered to himself. A moment later he printed out a small slip of paper and handed it to Doc.

“Fifty thousand dollars?” Doc asked, wondering if he had seen the price right.

“Yep, that’s right. Is something wrong with that price?”

“No....” Doc thought for a moment. With the inflation now, the price would be equal to about five thousand dollars in 1985. It was a lot of money, but then again hover conversions were not cheap. “It’ll work.”

The man looked at their clothing. “Say, are you all off to a Halloween party? Those are detailed costumes!”

Doc nodded, looking at his family. “Exactly.”

The man had him sign some papers and promised that the train would be ready by that evening. Apparently a train would be more difficult to convert then a car, but Doc had expected as much. After gathering up the materials to exchange in the antique shop, he led his family out onto the main street. They all gawked at the changes that had happened in one hundred and twenty years. Doc couldn’t blame them. He had stared when he had gone just thirty years in the future, that first time. The flying cars, the new inventions and improvement, the clothing.... It could be a bit overwhelming.

They were standing at a bus stop when Clara saw the poster. She glanced at it, looked away, then turned back to it. “Emmett,” she said, tugging on his arm. “Look at that!”

Doc turned around and took a look at what Clara was pointing at. He gasped. “I don’t believe it!”

He walked over for a closer look at where the poster hung on a fence . He was seeing right. In big bold letters, with a photo to match, it announced “Don’t miss the concert of the year! Buy tickets now, for the Halloween concert with the Pinheads! This special hometown performance will be seen at the Hill Valley Concert Hall for one night only!” Below the words was a picture of the band. Doc recognized Marty McFly right away, at the front of the group with a futuristic guitar in hand and a grin on his face. He was now 47 years old but looked younger, real good. Much better then he had on Doc’s last trip to the future. Something, he realized, had changed for better.

“Isn’t that your friend?” Clara asked. “Marty McFly?”

He nodded. “That’s Marty.” Doc stared at his face, suddenly feeling wistful. It had been nearly ten years since he had seen him last. At first, after he had left, Doc had thought of him frequently. But as the years had passed the thoughts had come less and less. Now the memories came back full force and he knew that he wanted to see the concert. But with it tonight at -- Doc checked the time -- 7 P.M., it didn’t seem likely that tickets would still be on sale.

“You want to see it, don’t you?” Clara said softly, watching Doc carefully.

Doc nodded again, this time somewhat reluctantly. “Yes, but I’m sure that it’s quite impossible. The concert is tonight and there are probably no tickets left.”

The bus landed at the stop then, before the conversation could go any further. A few early morning passengers stared at the Browns as they climbed on and sat down, each one with an armful of 19th century objects. Doc ignored the stares, knowing their would be many of them that day. But it could not be helped. Getting some current clothes for just one day was too expensive, especially since the train was getting that hover conversion.

It didn’t take too long before they reached the courthouse square. Doc realized that his family was being pretty quiet as they walked over to the “Blast from the Past” store, probably taking in the sights. It wasn’t until some kids on hoverboards passed that they spoke.

“Isn’t that what you used when you saved our lives?” Clara questioned Doc, her eyes on the children as they crossed the street.

“Hoverboards. Yes, it was one of those. Marty picked it up somewhere when we were here last. You should be thanking him.”

“Do you still have the hoverboard?” Jules asked, also staring at the kids.

“Somewhere. I put it away after it saved both my life and your mother’s. You can imagine how it would not do for anyone to find it back in 1895.”

The shop was empty when they entered it. A woman rushed right over to them, her eyes widening when she saw what they were carrying. “Do you need some help?”

Doc set an armful of clothing on the counter. “Yes. We would like to sell all of this.”

The woman opened her mouth, as if she could not believe that she had heard right. “All of this?” she asked, watching Clara, Jules, and Verne pile up more things until the counter was completely covered.

“That’s right.”

The woman went over to the counter and started to sort through everything. “These are all Nineteenth century antiques. Very rare. Where did you get them?”

“We cleaned out the attic,” Doc said quickly. “Also found these Halloween costumes.”

“I can give you fifty five thousand for all of this,” the woman said a few minutes later.

Clara gasped. “Is that fifty five thousand dollars?”

“Of course. We can transfer it into something else if you would like.”

“No, no,” Doc said, shaking his head. “Dollars will be fine.”

While the woman was typing up a recept, a phone rang nearby. She pressed a button beside the cash register and glanced at a small video monitor built into the counter. “Beth,” she said. “Why are you calling me at work?”

“I have some bad news, Karen,” the woman who was “Beth” said from the videophone. “Nick and his friend have to leave town and I have to go with them. We can’t go to the concert tonight.”

Doc leaned closer, though not meaning to eavesdrop. Were they talking about the Pinheads concert?

“What am I supposed to do with the four tickets?” Karen asked. “I don’t want to go alone!”

There was a pause. “I don’t know. Sell them to someone. I have to go. My jet leaves in three minutes. Sorry.” Beth closed the connection.

Karen sighed as she pulled out the money that she owed Doc. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who wants to go to that concert tonight,” she said.

Clara glanced at her husband. “What concert would that be?”

Karen looked surprised. “It’s the concert of the entire year! The Pinheads, of course.”

Clara looked at Doc again, her eyebrows raised. He nodded. “How much will you be selling them for?” Doc asked the saleswoman.

“Well, they’re good seats. A few rows from the front. Each ticket cost me fifteen hundred. Why, are you interested?”

“Yes,” Clara said. “We would like to buy all four from you, if you would sell them to us.”

“No prob.”

A few minutes later Doc came out of the shop with the money needed for the train, and the concert tickets.

The day passed quickly. Doc showed his family the town and some of the improvements in the technology that would come. Even if it was Halloween, quite a few people stared at their clothes, but only a couple people actually came up and asked questions about it. They all seemed to buy the Halloween excuse when it was explained.

Eventually, the concert rolled around. The woman who had sold them their tickets had been right -- they were only a few rows from the center stage. Doc spent the time before the concert began explaining to his family what all the equipment on stage was. But some of it was created after 1985 and he did not know what it was for.

The concert actually began on time. The entire building shook with clapping and cheers as the group walked on stage. Doc leaned forward in his seat as Marty approached the front, waving at the crowd. “Hello, Hill Valley!” he shouted into the microphone. The crowd cheered, even louder. Doc glanced at Clara, who wore a pained expression on her face. Jules and Verne, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“It’s great to be back home,” Marty continued. “When you go on tour, like the band and I have been for the last year, you don’t realize how much you miss home until you get there.” He turned around and made a gesture to someone, perhaps back stage. “I’d like to take a moment to thank my lovely wife Jen, who’s been with me these long hectic weeks, and my two kids, Marlene and Marty Jr.”

Jennifer and their two teenage children walked onto the stage and joined him. Doc was astonished at their physical changes, too. Jennifer looked radiant as she gazed at Marty, much happier then she had appeared before, years younger. Marlene didn’t seem too different, but with Marty Jr.... Not only did he look like Marty, but the way he stood, the cool confident expression on his face made him look exactly like his father had back thirty years before. The resemblance was almost unnerving.

“You look surprised,” Clara said to him -- yelling actually -- as the band started to play it’s first song.

Doc shrugged. “I guess I am,” he answered, not explaining any of the details.

The concert lasted over two hours. By the time it was over, Doc’s ears were ringing. The performance had been amazing, but loud. He was quiet as they caught the bus back to Wilson Hover Conversions to pick up the train. Only Clara noticed. Jules and Verne were too busy exclaiming over the sights and talking to each other about their first ever rock concert. They had never before heard music like that and couldn’t talk about it enough.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him softly.

Doc took his time in answering her question, trying to sort out his thoughts. “I miss Marty. I wish that I could go see him again, introduce Jules and Verne to him, let him know that I’m doing fine.”

“Well, why can’t you?” Clara asked reasonably. “You do have a time machine.”

Doc realized that she was correct. Great Scott! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? “You’re absolutely right,” he replied.

After paying for the hover conversion expenses, the Browns climbed back into the time machine. Doc set the destination time for a few minutes after they had left 1895. He needed to pick something up first. “Oh,” he said casually to Jules and Verne as he pulled the train into the air, “what would you both think about getting a dog?”

“You mean it?” Verne cried, a hopeful look on his face. He had been asking for a pet for quite some time.

Doc nodded, a smile on his face. “Yes, I’m going to swing by 1985 after this trip home and plan on picking up Einstein -- my old sheep dog.”

It didn’t take long before they were back in 1895. “Why are we stopping here?” Clara asked as she looked outside. “I thought that you wanted to go to 1985.”

“I do,” Doc explained. “But there is something I want to give Marty that’s in my lab. It will just take a few minutes to find and wrap.”

Doc had his family wait inside the train as he got out and searched through the box he was sure that it was in. It had to be, he had clear memories of placing it in there a few weeks after Marty had left --

His hand closed over it and Doc pulled it out. It was the picture that the photographer had taken of both he and Marty at the town festival ten years before. Doc brushed the dust off the picture and carried it over to his work table. He pulled out a pen and wrote a quick inscription on the bottom of the frame: To Marty, Partners in Time, September 5, 1885. Then, as he waited for the ink to dry, Doc searched for something to wrap it in. Eventually, he turned up some brown paper and folded the paper around the picture, tying it up with a thin rope.

“Okay,” Doc announced as he climbed back into the train. “I’m going to make two trips to 1985. The first will be early in the morning so we can pick up Einstein at my lab. The second will be later, once I am sure that Marty has returned to 1985.”

He handed the wrapped picture to Clara as he turned his attention to the controls. The date he typed in this time was October 27, 1985 at 5:00 A.M. Minutes later, they were there. Since it was dark out, once they were in 1985 he used the hover conversion and landed right behind his lab. The place was locked up and exactly how he had left it -- in a sense over ten years before.

As soon as Doc unlocked the door, he was nearly knocked over by a white fuzzy blur. “Einstein!” he shouted as the dog licked his face. It was almost as if he had known how long it had been since Doc had last seen him.

“Wow,” Verne said as he followed Clara and Jules into the place. “This place is even messier then my half of the room!”

“I wasn’t one for cleaning up much in my bachelor days,” Doc admitted. “But that’s no excuse for having your bedroom a mess,” he added, trying to push his dog down.

Clara walked around the corner. “What happened here?” she asked, bending over and picking up some loose papers. “It looks like something exploded.”

Doc crossed the room to where she was standing. “Something did,” he said, taking a hard look at the wall sized amplifier -- or, rather, what was left of it. He shook his head with a sigh. “I told Marty that there was a chance of overload with it, but I guess he didn’t listen....”

A few minutes later Doc was locking the place up again. He knew he would have to come back sometime soon, sort through everything, but that could wait until later. Doc quickly flew the train back to the stretch of track near Eastwood Ravine before adjusting the time circuits again. This time he merely advanced the time to 12:00 P.M., noon. He would definitely be back by that time, Doc knew.

“And now,” Doc Brown began as he started the acceleration to eighty-eight, “it’s time to visit Marty....”